In truth, gaining approval from the Imperial Family wasn’t the hardest part—it was breaking through the stubbornness of Duke Dinero, who refused to get involved with them at all.
Admiral Hermann, with a cigarette between his lips, tied the letter to a military eagle’s leg and sent it flying.
Then, at dawn today…
Tara Transport’s reply arrived much faster than expected.
“Approval has been granted.”
It wasn’t from Duke Dinero, but rather from Clemence Jacqueline.
‘That means the first letter must have been sent by Jacqueline’s side.’
It didn’t really matter.
Tara Transport was currently being jointly operated by Duke Dinero and Clemence Jacqueline.
An approval from Clemence Jacqueline meant Duke Dinero had also given his consent.
The admiral’s brow twitched as he read the letter.
“The fee is 10,000 gold per kilometer per ship.”
That was nearly three times the rate of their current partner, Ben Transport.
Naturally, the navy’s reaction was fierce.
“This is outright robbery!”
“It’s an obvious rip-off!”
“We should refuse!”
His subordinates shouted in unison. The admiral frowned and sighed.
“Then are you saying we should all just die?”
Everyone in the navy knew the ships from Ben Transport were outdated compared to foreign vessels.
“Well, that’s true, but still—it feels so unfair to charge that much when we’re doing this for the country!”
“Trying to profit off the nation…! We should contact the Imperial Palace!”
“No. There’s no need for that.”
The admiral shook his head at the suggestion of involving the Emperor.
If they did that, it would definitely turn into a standoff between the Imperial Family and Duke Dinero. And knowing the duke’s temperament, the entire deal would likely collapse.
In the worst-case scenario, the duke might even shut down Tara Transport entirely.
Recalling the duke’s infamous temper, the admiral bit down hard on his cigarette.
‘But we absolutely need Tara Transport.’
Other war nations were already surpassing the Seriel Empire with advanced ship technology.
Having assessed the situation coolly, the admiral made a firm decision.
“Proceed. I’ll take full responsibility.”
His subordinates, taken aback, looked at each other, then bit their lips and saluted.
“Yes, sir!!”
Their trust in the admiral—victorious in underwater battles—was stronger than steel.
To hide his complicated feelings, the admiral bit down on another cigarette.
‘Our unit cannot be the first to lose a battle in this war.’
If it came to that, the admiral himself would just resign, but his men would not survive.
Right now, survival was the priority.
‘Clemence Jacqueline…’
He looked at the name written at the bottom of the letter.
Clemence Jacqueline.
She was more competent than he thought.
Talking about fees to a soldier on the brink of life and death in wartime meant significantly limiting his options.
He suddenly recalled when the head of the Investigation Bureau had blown up in rage.
“Can you believe Count Jacqueline’s daughter had the audacity to threaten our investigators, saying she’d report them to the press for coercive interrogation?”
It had been an unprecedented situation, and the bureau chief had been beside himself with fury.
The girl in question was, if memory served, Clemence Jacqueline.
‘Wasn’t she friends with Aaron?’
Aaron was Hermann’s one and only younger brother.
A bold young lady and his stone-faced brother, as friends?
‘What an amusing pair.’
Hermann smirked, unaware that he himself was just as stone-faced.
Two and a half years passed—not too long, not too short.
“Happy birthday, miss!”
“Congratulations, my lady.”
Julia, Lisa, and Agathe greeted me with birthday wishes from the morning.
I had turned 18—officially coming of age.
Of course, Duke Dinero still hadn’t granted me the right of succession.
‘Damn it.’
I hadn’t yet found a card to win over the old man.
“Sigh… Let’s see how much I’ve made now that I’m of age.”
Maybe seeing my earnings would help cool my anger.
I quickly checked the sales and profit reports.
“4.57 million gold!”
“That’s amazing!”
Julia beside me was stunned.
“Earning this much profit from just one business in such a short time is no easy feat!”
The investments I’d made based on information from Mion alone had earned over 500,000 gold.
‘So I have at least five million gold in hand!’
I had finally hit my target amount.
Clenching my eyes shut and balling my fists, I exhaled deeply.
Now I could buy the count title for Lennox, who would soon come of age!
…Or not!
‘That’s completely out of reach now!’
A count’s title used to be worth 5 million gold—a fortune. Even the wealthiest commoners would often give up on it.
It had been a system created by filthy-rich nobles who wanted to satisfy their vanity.
But things changed when the current Emperor suddenly declared war on surrounding nations eight years ago.
Many rich people now sought count titles as a way to avoid conscription.
Emperor Claude, cunning as ever, hiked up the price of count titles even further.
“It’s now at 30 million gold…”
That was a six-fold increase.
The official reason was inflation due to the war.
But an eightfold rise in just three years? Ridiculous.
Even in my past life, real estate in prime locations didn’t skyrocket this much!
‘Well… maybe it did.’
Still, this was absurd.
The shocking news made me dizzy.
‘What if I can’t afford the count title? Lennox gets drafted?’
Of course, Lennox—the strongest being in this world—would survive, but it was highly likely he’d fall into darkness.
In the original story, he was traumatized by war, recovered his memories, and seized the throne.
‘And the Jacqueline household was wiped out with him…’
Recalling the original plot only solidified my determination.
“I will earn that money, no matter what.”
Just then, Lisa came in.
“Miss, another letter arrived today. The sender…”
She trailed off and gave me a mysterious smile.
“Melin?”
“Nope.”
I asked carefully, trying to guess.
“…The professors?”
‘Persistent bunch.’
They had sent me letters without fail for three years, trying to recruit me as their talented “slave.”
On the surface, they were just friendly greetings… but they always insisted I should visit the lab.
‘Not a chance.’
What kind of slave walks willingly into a trap?
“Nope.”
I let out a sigh of relief.
“Phew. Then it must be Aquila.”
“Correct. It’s that student again.”
Lisa smiled brightly and handed me the letter.
Relieved that it wasn’t from the professors, I opened it.
Sender: Aquila
Aquila—identity unknown.
A student at the Academy who had been sending me letters consistently for three years.
Specifically, since the entrance ceremony.
‘Said my speech made a deep impression on him.’
At first, I found the anonymous letters strange, but now they’d become a pleasant part of daily life.
I’d feel oddly empty if a letter didn’t arrive.
‘Who on earth is he?’
I had gone through the Academy’s student list, but there was no one named Aquila.
So he was anonymous.
From the contents, I had deduced that he was in the Swordsmanship Department, in his third year, and—like me—aiming for early graduation.
Today, I was curious if the letter might contain any clues about his identity, so I quickly unfolded it.
Hello. This is Aquila.
His handwriting was becoming more refined and elegant with each letter.
Summer is ending and autumn is approaching here.
By the time this letter reaches you, it will probably be your birthday.
Happy birthday in advance.
Huh? How does he know my birthday?
I had never mentioned it to him, yet every year he brought it up right on time.
Around this time, I always recall your inspiring graduation speech.
‘Ugh!’
I let out an internal scream and silently begged Aquila.
‘Please forget that embarrassing speech!’
But he wasn’t bluffing. The next paragraph was a vivid recollection of it—like a cow chewing cud.
‘Is this emotional torture?!’
Just reading it made my face burn.
I quickly skimmed past that part with blurry eyes.
Then something caught my attention.
By the way, I have some good news of my own.
‘What is it?’
Curious, I unconsciously began reading the letter faster.
